Page 134 of Cain
“The Mansons,” he repeats with the same pride as me.
He remains quiet, letting a soft chuckle escape his lips.
But I can’t leave it alone. The question’s been gnawing at me from the second I saw him in that filthy warehouse.
“How did you know where I’d be?” I ask.
He lifts his eyes, his smile fading. “I didn’t. It was a coincidence. My boss was my next target.” He takes astep closer. “So, thanks for putting him in the ground. Saved me the bullet.”
Good reply.
“Adam the Terminator,” I joke.
He chuckles, but his expression turns solemn again.
“I’d better get going.”
“Struggling to keep your rabid little instincts in check?” I smirk, playing dumb, as if I don’t already know I’m the reason his hands are trembling, like someone waiting for the axe. “Fighting the urge to tear me apart like you do all those low-rent thugs you butcher without any shred of dignity?”
He crosses his bulky arms. “If I wanted your ass dead, you’d be dead. I don’t usually go around saving people I plan to kill.”
“Should I say thank you, or just be flattered I made it onto your ‘don’t kill yet’ list?”
“Don’t get too comfortable. That list gets shorter every day.” He winks before he smiles.
“Perfect.” I clap my hands. “I’d hate to die of boredom before you finally grow the guts to make a move.”
He chuckles, his brown eyes nailed on mine. “Careful. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you want me to make a move.”
I grin broadly, mirroring his attitude. “Only if it ends with blood on the floor. Yours or mine; I’m not picky.”
He laughs again, cocky as ever, but I’ve had my fill.
I step past him toward the door. “As much as I enjoy our heartfelt bonding time, I’ve reached my limit of crap for the day.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Kicking me out already? Thought family meant something.”
I open the door wide, giving him a mock bow. “It does. Which is why I’m giving you the chance to leave voluntarily instead of drop-kicking you off my porch.”
“You’ve always had such a warm way of showing love.”
I smirk. “And you’ve always had a talent for overstaying your welcome. Don’t trip on the way out.”
He lingers just long enough to be annoying, then finally moves. “It was fun to see you after all this time, brother.” He salutes me lazily as he goes.
I watch him with a faint smile. “It was. In a twisted, migraine-inducing kind of way.”
He steps out.
“Don’t be a stranger,” I add, halting his momentum. He doesn’t look back at me. “Just give me time to forget why you pissed me off.”
He turns his head slightly to the side.
“The Mansons never forget,” he says quietly. “But maybe one day we’ll remember something good, too.”
He walks away and shuts the door behind him.
“Maybe one day,” I mutter to myself.
